A Feast of Fan Fiction
by AlternativeAlbion
Summary: The great day of feasting has arrived, and in Bowerstone Castle, everyone in attendance will realize the value of staying true to oneself after falling under the influence of a rather odd experiment administered by the blind seeress, Theresa.


The day comes but once a year. It is a day of thanks, a day of giving, and one to spend with those you love the most. Unfortunately, for our Hero-Queen, Mary Sue, this day found her in the grand dining hall, trapped in the company of those who would test her patience to no end. It was Paunchgiving Day, formerly known as "The Great Day of Feasting." Its current name had been petitioned for and invented by Philipth Morley, on the grounds that the former name lacked creativity, and that the overindulgence practiced by many throughout the day did _indeed_ cause quite the paunch. The late playwright was known for his eccentric titles, and the renaming of this special day would be his final contribution before choking to death on a ham sandwich.

The table was packed with guests, both invited and intruding. Reaver, for one, had shown up first, bearing no gifts or contribution to the table, as was custom. Upon arriving, he simply tossed his coat into The Queen's royal hands and asked where he could find a brandy. Page had come in a flurry of outrage because she opposed the holiday and all it represented. She could not stand how the rich over-indulged on succulent food and beverage while the poor starved in the streets where they sat—_or lay—_homeless. The Queen could not wait for supper, for then Page's gaping trap might be silenced by the food that she _so_ protested.

Ben was the exception to Mary Sue's distaste for her present company. He came bearing both the liquor for the occasion and a cunning wit that would prove to be entertaining in the inevitable lulls of conversation. He gave her a wink and a grin as he entered, and his light-hearted demeanor quickly put the Queen at ease.

Logan descended the staircase, his face fixed with a severe scowl as he watched his castle filling with unwelcome guests and their disgusting merriness. He pulled Mary Sue aside to demand that the guests be promptly discarded back out into the cold as soon as they had taken their last bite of food and _not a minute later_. This dreadful holiday was no reason to celebrate or to be thankful. For the former King of Albion, it was just one forced social interaction after another, and he could not wait for it to conclude.

The guests began seating themselves around the table. Page and Reaver immediately repelled themselves to separate ends, though Reaver made certain to secure a position between Logan and the Queen. Ben moved next to the object of his lust, Page, and as everyone began surveying the spread on the table, a bright flash of light blinded them all.

_Theresa had arrived._

The blind seeress came bearing an intricately decorated bottle of wine. The gold symbols that skittered across the dark, smokey glass, were unintelligible and the label was obscured by a gift ribbon. After placing the bottle in the center of the table where all could reach it, Theresa seated herself at the opposite head of the table, across from Queen Mary Sue.

The Queen's most trusted advisor, Jasper, entered the room, his eyes surveying the dining hall. When he saw the numerous guests, he strained to contain a sigh of exasperation. He knew that in this mix of volatile personalities, disaster would be inevitable. However, it would be bad form if he let it show that he was not prepared to handle this type of impending doom, so the elderly man straightened and took the situation in admirable stride.

Mary Sue opened the bottle of wine that Theresa had provided, and served her guests, as was traditional for the host of Paunchgiving Day. She eyed the odd bottle as she recorked it, having filled each glass nearly to the brim. Gods knew they would all _certainly_ need it.

"Theresa," Mary Sue commented, setting the wine down. "This bottle is very odd. Where ever did you find such an...interesting vintage?" She sniffed the wine in her goblet, and a strong, unfamiliar spice mingled with the usual fruity, dry scent of wine.

Theresa sat back in her chair with her hands calmly folded in her lap and in her usual, cryptic method of response, she murmured from beneath her face-obscuring hood. "It is not known where the wine comes from…" Her voice dropped to an even lower, more ominous tone. "...only its purpose."

"So long as it serves the _purpose_ of getting me and my spirited fellows rightly sloshed, I care not about the wheres, the whys, and the hows...only the _whos_ that I will be bedding after such intoxication sets in!" Reaver's eyes darted between the royal siblings, obviously not having made up his mind on which of the two to seduce that holiday evening; though, pondering further, he decided that he needn't select just one. _It wouldn't be the first time he'd come between siblings, after all._

Ben raised his glass and chimed in with a wide smirk, "Anyone would need to be insurmountably crocked out of their wits to entertain your presence in their bedchambers, Reaver!"

"Oh, my dear Benjamin, I think you will find that I can persuade even the most stalwart of prudes out of their pants and into my bed." Reaver returned Ben's grin with dazzling enthusiasm. "Though, barring the availability of a bed, any surface would surely suffice."

"Reaver!" Page pounded a fist down onto the table as she scolded the man from far across the table. "Have you ever had a thought that didn't involve drinking and debauchery?"

Reaver placed a finger against his pursed lips, thinking for just a moment. "To be perfectly honest..._no_," he replied, his mouth curling into a more devious smile. "I find that I come into quite the foul mood if drinking and debauchery are ever absent in my life."

"Some life that must be," Logan growled under his breath, the scar on his lip twitching visibly in his irritation.

"Okay, everyone. Okay," Mary Sue softly interjected. "This evening is about gratitude and fellowship. We must love one another as we love ourselves," she preached in all of her virtue and goodness.

"Oh, _ma croquette_, if only you would allow me to observe you as you_ thoroughly love yourself_, I may come to find that I could love myself, too!" Reaver regaled with laughter. "Perhaps even at the same time! It could be a very _mutually_ loving experience!"

Mary Sue paused a moment, her face scrunching as she pondered Reaver's remarks, unsure of what the man was alluding to. Unable to come to a conclusion, she continued her toast. "Let us strengthen our bonds and remember the things that we are thankful for today, and may we all have a very blessed Paunchgiving. Cheers!" She raised her glass. The table followed suit along with her, and together they all took a drink.

_**Fifteen minutes later…**_

The clinking and clanking of utensils against the fine royal dining service rang throughout the room. A lull in the conversation swept across the room as the second glass of Theresa's mysterious wine was poured.

"Teehee!" Logan giggled, drawing everyone's attention as his brow raised in pleasant surprise. "Theresa, this wine is so sweet and delicious, not at all unlike the present company in which I am simply _blessed_ to be dining with this eve." He raised a finger daintily to his upturned lips, pondering a moment. "Where _ever_ did you come to acquire such a delectable treat?"

Theresa sat silent in her chair, her sightless eyes peering over her untouched glass of wine.

Queen Mary Sue leaned forward and pointed accusingly at the seeress, and with a look of severe disdain, barked, "Hey, _crazy eyes_! You've just been asked a question. How about you drop your foreboding, bullshit act and answer him!"

"All will be revealed in due time," Theresa said, calmly.

"Oi!" Ben chimed in, pointing at Theresa. "Why haven't you chugged _yours_ down yet, sweetie pie? Blimey, this wine sure is the dog's bollocks! Are you a bloody loon or sumfin?" he inquired playfully, capping off his question with a few consecutive winks and a one-sided grin. He raised a hand, shaping it like a pistol, and with the click of his tongue, he fired off an imaginary shot towards the robed woman.

"Now, now, sweet one," Reaver cooed, placing a comforting hand on the Queen's shoulder. "Why don't you and I take a relaxing stroll through the garden to soothe your poor nerves. Perhaps you might do me the honor of letting me hold your lovely hand as we stride gaily through the flowers; their sweet nectar tickling our noses with their candied essence as our hearts and souls soar together like the adorable little birdies that fly above us." He stretched his gloved hand toward hers, his eyes glinting with virtue.

Mary Sue, raised a brow at the industrialist, her mouth curling into a devious grin. Her hand, instead of reaching for his, wandered toward his backside, where she squeezed wickedly. Her eyebrows waggled suggestively as she murmured against his ear, "Maybe you could take a stroll down into _my_ garden and tickle your nose against my—"

Reaver gasped, his face reddening with shock and scandal. His hand went to his breast, laying over his tender heart. "My _delicate daffodil_! Such perverse talk is not befitting of a proper, lovely lady like yourself!" He took her hands into his, and he kissed her knuckles chastely. "We should certainly not discuss such things until we are wed!"

"Not if _I_ have anything to say about it!" Page protested, striding up to Mary Sue. She snatched the Queen's hands away from Reaver's and tugged her close. "I love you, Mary Sue. I have always loved you, but I have never been able to say it until now!" She crushed her lips against Mary Sue's and pulled her into a passionate, _extremely_ public display of love.

Mary Sue gasped at first, but she folded into Page's kiss, grabbing and groping lewdly.

"Eeeee!" Logan squealed, clapping rather effeminately. "I love seeing my sister_ SO_ happy!" His hands raised in the air, trembling with unexpellable excitement. "I love her dearly, as you all know. She is so sweet, nurturing, beautiful…" As the Prince trailed off in thought, his face grew more rapturous. "Her...delicious curves, so _many_ of which are...uncharted...waiting to be..._discovered_." He paused, licking his lips. "I...love her..._so much_."

Moaning, Mary sue and Page sank to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

"Welp, guess that explains that!" Ben said, letting out a throaty chuckle as he regarded the woman he loved as she carried out her romantic advance toward the Queen. "Bloody hell and bollocks," he continued. "When's a bloke like me gonna get a bloody bleeding blimey crikey blasted sodding woman? Surely someone out there has a propensity for the overuse of slang as much as_ I_ bloody do!"

Reaver, tears filling his eyes, avoided the bawdy display on the floor. "What must I do to prove my—quite literally—_undying_ devotion to you!?" He tapped his chin softly, looking innocent and thoughtful, ignoring the two women in varying states of undress rolling about at his feet. Suddenly a stroke of genius crossed his mind. "AHA! I shall go to The Shadow Court posthaste and put an end to this _silly_ bout of immortality to convince you of my true, pure feelings for you!" He put his hands on his hips, one finding the sparkling Dragonstomper .48 at his side. His expression shifted into one of horror, and he pulled the pistol from its holster with his thumb and forefinger as if it were covered in balverine excrement. "And I shall do it without this foul tool of destruction!" He flicked the Dragonstomper carelessly, causing it to discharge, the bullet striking a bust of Logan tucked away into the corner.

Disturbed by the sudden sound of gunshot, Page and Mary Sue resurfaced, both looking flushed and out of breath.

Logan's eyes widened, and his mouth fell agape. "Why would you stop undressing my sister, Page?" He adjusted his position slightly to accommodate his growing bulge, clearing his throat before continuing. "I mean, such a _beautiful_ act love should never be interrupted. Yes._ That's_ what I meant."

"Hmm methinks it sounds like ol' Logan here wouldn't mind partaking in a little rumpy-pumpy, roley-poley with his sister and the fair Page!" Ben chortled. "Oi, Logan!" He pointed and laughed at the amorous man. "I can see your blimey stonker from here, mate! You might as well pull out your sodding twig and berries and bloody show 'em off to everyone!"

Logan blushed, his body slumping inward on itself as he crossed one leg over the other in sheer embarrassment.

"Put that...that_ thing_ away, Logan! Can you not see that we are all good and decent people here?" Reaver sneered, turning his eyes away and marching toward the door.

"Reaver," Theresa softly chimed in. "I do not believe you wish to leave while you are still under the—"

"Pardon my language, sweet woman, but _pish posh_! I will not go on another _moment_ as a man deemed unacceptable by my lady-love," Reaver proclaimed. He glanced back to Mary Sue, and he bowed deeply. "Rest assured, my cuddle-bunny, I shall return a man renewed, and then I may-" His eyes rolled, and suddenly his body went limp. He fell forward, his most treasured asset—his face—landing squarely on the polished marble floor.

"Bloody bleeding hell!" Ben exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "He must be totally arseholed!" When he moved to inspect Reaver, his own knees buckled, and he, too succumbed to unconsciousness. Despite being out like a light, he still grumbled through his sleep, "Bloody...b-blimey...sod-sodding..."

"Ugh!" Mary Sue exclaimed, pushing a passed-out Page from atop her onto the floor. "No one around here can hold their drink, it seems. _Pansies_, the lot of you!" She began swaying gently, and brought a hand to her head as her vision started tunnel.

"Darling—Er...SISTER,_ NO_!" Logan exclaimed, lunging forward. "I will _catch_ you, my sweet!" He wrapped his arms around her, pressing her tightly against him. Not a moment after he had her in his tight embrace, his eyes closed, and they tumbled to the floor together.

Theresa rose from her chair after having witnessed the result of her special gift coming to fruition. Her experiment had gone off without a hitch, and before she cast a spell to teleport back to the Spire, she held out her hands and murmured, "So easily, we are torn away from our true selves by just a sip of _**Fan Fiction**_."

* * *

**A/N: We wanted to bring you this very special holiday collaboration just in time for _your_ great day of feasting! The idea originated from wanting to simply poke fun at how our favorite characters are increasingly being thrown OOC in fan fiction. In our story, once they fell under the influence of the fan fiction wine, all bets were off. If you're wondering why Jasper disappeared, it's because in most fan fictions, he does just that. After partaking in the sweet beverage, however, we decided to make our Mary Sue completely flip flop, as most people do with their Hero Queens. Ben is just one poor lump of lighthearted gestures and exceeding use of slang with no real character depth. Logan turns rather soft, and falls for his own sister...a theme we only _wish_ were not so mainstream that we'd have to include it here. Page is, of course, in love with the Queen since any woman that turns down Ben Finn in the game _must_ be a raging lesbian. And Reaver...need we elaborate? Okay, if you insist. He seems to grow a vagina in most Reaver-centric fan fictions. So soft and cuddly, romantic and selfless is he in so many stories, we just couldn't resist.**

**Hopefully you all enjoyed this (more tame) installment to our roster of crazy Alternative Albion one-shots. Should you have any requests or words of praise or disgust, please feel free to PM us! If you would like to give your thanks as we celebrate this Paunchgiving Day, please leave some feedback in the review box below. We will nom on every review quite gratefully!**

**Until next time, stay demented...**


End file.
